That afternoon we perceived little groups in the street, all
listening with faces aghast to some tale or other. Miss Jenkyns
wondered what could be the matter for some time before she took the
undignified step of sending Jenny out to inquire.

Jenny came back with a white face of terror. "Oh, ma'am! Oh, Miss
Jenkyns, ma'am! Captain Brown is killed by them nasty cruel
railroads!" and she burst into tears. She, along with many others,
had experienced the poor Captain's kindness.

"How?--where--where? Good God! Jenny, don't waste time in crying,
but tell us something." Miss Matty rushed out into the street at
once, and collared the man who was telling the tale.

"Come in--come to my sister at once, Miss Jenkyns, the rector's
daughter. Oh, man, man! say it is not true," she cried, as she
brought the affrighted carter, sleeking down his hair, into the
drawing-room, where he stood with his wet boots on the new carpet,
and no one regarded it.

"Please, mum, it is true. I seed it myself," and he shuddered at
the recollection. "The Captain was a-reading some new book as he
was deep in, a-waiting for the down train; and there was a little
lass as wanted to come to its mammy, and gave its sister the slip,
and came toddling across the line. And he looked up sudden, at the
sound of the train coming, and seed the child, and he darted on the
line and cotched it up, and his foot slipped, and the train came
over him in no time. O Lord, Lord! Mum, it's quite true, and
they've come over to tell his daughters. The child's safe, though,
with only a bang on its shoulder as he threw it to its mammy. Poor